Duke Etien strode out of the ceremonial hall where the coronation of Zarakand's new emperor had just taken place. He was flanked by other influential nobles, all pledging their unwavering allegiance to the newly crowned emperor, Glenn Lancaster. Glenn, the youngest prince,once dismissed as irrelevant by the late emperor, had pulled off a bold coup, initiating reforms and seizing the throne.
Etien, like the others, had grown sick of the late emperor's tyranny, the oppression, and the senseless cruelty inflicted upon innocent peasants by the empire's powerful nobles. For years, these injustices had been allowed to flourish under the previous regime, driving Etien to lead a rebellion he never imagined would usher in a new era for a man once considered inconsequential, a man who now sat atop the empire's throne.
Etien's long black coat shimmered with intricate silver embroidery in abstract patterns, symbolizing his noble status. The coat's inner lining was a deep purple hue, cascading almost to the floor. The front lay open, revealing a crisp white silk shirt with high buttons and delicate lace peeking out from its cuffs and collar.
A black velvet vest hugged his frame, accentuating his commanding silhouette. Its silver buttons bore the elaborate crest of his family—a bold 'C', a symbol he'd never forsake. The faint sunlight streaming through the glass-domed ceiling caught the shine of the silver buttons and his tiger-shaped accessory, crafted in exquisite detail with its mouth wide open. A slim gold chain draped between the vest's buttons and his coat, ensuring the garment remained secure. His sapphire-studded ring gleamed on his right index finger, signaling his high rank. At his shoulders sat epaulets adorned with silver tassels—marks of honor befitting his role as a duke within the empire.
Etien's jet-black hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp purple eyes radiated a dangerous, almost bloodthirsty intensity—a stark contrast to his refined, handsome face, which seemed softer than the rumors whispered across the empire.
He was the architect of the rebellion that toppled the previous emperor, the loudest advocate for Glenn Lancaster's ascent to power. Every step he took exuded authority and opulence, making Duke Etien impossible to overlook within the palace halls. He wasn't just another noble; he was the living embodiment of majesty and strength. Yet, for him, it would all come to an end soon enough.
As the palace reveled in festivities celebrating the new emperor, Etien opted to retreat to the serenity of the royal garden, a haven of peace amidst the chaos. Towering oak and maple trees lined the garden's edges, providing shade for anyone seeking solace. The fresh scent of grass and flowers mingled with the gentle murmur of water cascading into a marble pond, its crystal-clear surface glimmering under the sunlight.
A sturdy gazebo stood with its grand, towering pillars. Guards were stationed nearby, but their presence did little to disturb Etien. He chose to sit at the gazebo's edge, gazing toward the tranquil pine forest just beyond.
Peace. This was what he had longed for during his four years in the capital, far from his birthplace in the South, Winterbraun. He'd left his snowy homeland to ensure Glenn's rise to power.
The capital of Eryndaul was hotter than Winterbraun's icy terrain, though the air remained fresh, thanks to Zarakand's mountainous surroundings. Eighty percent of the empire was bordered by peaks, with the rocky terrain to the East and the barren deserts of the North stretching along Falaun's borders, the furthest reaches of Eryndaul.
In such heat, coupled with dry winds wafting from Falaun, Etien's current attire felt suffocating, as though he were trapped in a sauna. He couldn't fathom why the coronation ceremony and the celebrations had been scheduled during the sweltering day instead of the cooler evening hours.
"I'm going to melt if I keep wearing this in Eryndaul," he muttered, wiping the beads of sweat streaming down his face.
But wasn't it just a matter of enduring for a few more hours?
Etien closed his eyes, picturing Winterbraun, the land he had left to bathe in the blood of Zarakand's traitors. But now, it was all over. The man he had ensured ascended to the throne was where he belonged. There was no longer any reason for Etien to remain in the capital after the successful rebellion.
He craved peace, tranquility, and a long period of rest—far away from the capital's political games. Once Zarakand achieved stability, he intended to return to Winterbraun, vowing never to revisit the capital for any reason.
Of course, he had loyal people to handle such matters for him. As the ruler of the South, Etien's sole duty was to keep his lands as calm and serene as he desired.
"You still haven't gotten used to Eryndaul after four years here, Duke Etien?"
Etien's eyes snapped open as a cool touch swept across his sweat-drenched forehead. Startled, he nearly leaped to his feet, stunned to find someone standing before him unnoticed.
It was Glenn Lancaster, the newly crowned emperor.
"Your Majesty—shouldn't you be at the celebration?"
"And what about you?" Glenn's lips curved into an easy smile.
At twenty-eight, Glenn Lancaster seemed far too young to carry the weight of the emperor's crown, but he was undeniably too formidable to overlook. His lineage traced back to Lady Lynett Qweara, the last noble descendant of the Valbara Kingdom in Trigia—a land ruled by dragons. The draconic blood inherited from his mother coursed through Glenn's veins, bringing with it an unmatched power that Zarakand sorely needed after enduring years of corruption under the late emperor's reign.
It was this heritage, both feared and revered, that had driven Glenn to orchestrate the reform, toppling the previous tyrant to place a ruler of strength and wisdom, a descendant of dragons on the throne.
Etien turned his head and wiped the sweat off his face before stepping down from the gazebo to face Glenn. With a slight bow, the duke gave his respect, the very image of decorum.
"We're alone. No need for that," Glenn said warmly, his tone easy and inviting. "So, what brings you here? It's blazing outside. Don't tell me you're just hiding from the heat."
"I'm not exactly fond of crowds," Etien replied curtly.
Glenn arched a brow, his smirk somewhere between amused and teasing. "You led twenty thousand soldiers, day in and out, for four years ordering them here, sending them there. And now you tell me you're not comfortable with that crowds?"
Etien's sharp purple eyes narrowed, flashing with irritation. To him, it sounded less like an observation and more like an annoying critique. "When I'm with my men, clad in armor and reeking of dried blood that smells like rusty iron, it's nothing like the sweetness of perfume and rum that hangs in the air here. Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I'm not what you'd call familiar."
Glenn, surprisingly, didn't take offense at Etien's pointed words or the sharp expression that accompanied them. Instead, he simply observed, unruffled, as though studying a particularly fascinating specimen.
"Do you mean to tell me that parties are unheard of in Winterbraun?" Glenn asked.
"I've never bothered with such things at my mansion," Etien answered flatly, his tone cold. "Nor did the dukes before me."
"Well, Eryndaul isn't like Winterbraun with its endless snow and fleeting summers," Glenn pointed out, his words carrying a subtle charm. "But isn't the capital what everyone aspires to? Besides, the portal to Winterbraun is conveniently located right here at the imperial palace. Why not take a quick trip and still stick around the capital just a bit longer?"
The shift in conversation felt deliberate, almost like a gentle persuasion to keep Etien from leaving. Yet his duty was done. Glenn had been placed on Zarakand's throne, and there was no longer any reason for Etien to remain tangled in the politics and scheming that were sure to follow the coronation festivities.
With calm resolve and carefully chosen words, Etien declined. "As I've said before, I'm not well-suited to the capital's lively atmosphere, Your Majesty. My role here is complete. My sole purpose was to see you ascend to the imperial throne of Zarakand, and now that it's done, I plan to return to Winterbraun."
Glenn sighed, an unusual action that struck Etien as odd. It didn't seem like something a ruler would do not when one of his most trusted allies had made his intentions clear. Was there some unspoken reason for Glenn to keep him here, despite the Southern territory under Etien's stewardship demanding his attention?
"What will you do in that snowy land where winter practically never ends?" Glenn asked casually, though his tone carried a peculiar note. It wasn't a plea or a veiled attempt to keep him tethered to the capital. No, it sounded like genuine disapproval, almost like a child pouting over an unwanted answer.
Etien's sharp instincts caught it immediately. But wasn't this precisely what an emperor should expect? When a subordinate who had lifted him to power subtly stated that they no longer wished to be embroiled in the affairs of the capital, reluctance was only natural.
"Winterbraun has stood for three hundred years, far longer than Zarakand which came after. Yes, it's a snowy land with only brief summers, but we have platinum mines that ensure our prosperity without relying on the empire's aid. And for that reason alone, Your Majesty, before you lose your sanity and follow in your predecessor's madness like your late father, it's best that I strengthen my lands to stand independently from the empire."
Glenn chuckled, covering his mouth as if to stifle the sound. It wasn't the first time Etien had seen that knowing laughter. During the rebellion, Glenn often laughed just like this whenever their enemies made a costly strategic blunder.
Maybe this time wasn't much different. Perhaps it, too, was a mockery.
"So you fear I'll turn into my late father?" Glenn asked, his voice lined with curiosity.
It was a difficult question, one that could potentially cost Etien the emperor's trust. Yet it was far better to speak plainly than to remain silent and allow the worst to unfold unchecked.
"While I may be a duke governing the South, I was raised a soldier amidst chaos. Winterbraun may be rich in platinum, but it's also home to savage beasts, some of which devour humans. From a young age, I've fought such monsters. It's second nature for me to remain vigilant," Etien answered firmly, his eyes unflinching. Though his words seemed conversational, they carried a stark warning.
"Well," Glenn said with a wry smile, "you're certainly an extraordinary duke, Etien. I can appreciate your caution. And after that, what will you do?"
"I'm getting married."